


Scoop

by ziskandra



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, In-Universe News Article, Lockhart survives his teaching term unscathed, Lockhart's crimes uncovered through investigative journalism, and Hermione tries to teach Rita a lesson (but fails), in which Rita makes a trip to Australia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:08:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26172481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziskandra/pseuds/ziskandra
Summary: Rita Skeeter investigates a lead from an unlikely source.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 25
Collections: Alternate Universe Exchange 2020





	Scoop

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fencesit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fencesit/gifts).



People like the Granger girl failed to understand one simple truth: Rita Skeeter was more than a one-trick beetle. While her Animagus form was useful for hiding in plain sight, she had been taught how to blend into the background long before her magical tuition. With a Muggle mother and a wizard father, Rita had grown up caught between two worlds, one foot here and her other there.

Ever since coming of age and graduating from Hogwarts, she’d held little affection for the world of Muggles – why would she? Plain, simple people, with not a drop of intrigue in their bodies. The only connection true connection she’d maintained from that time in her life had been with her mother. Not due to any amount of true affection for the woman but because she was another resource that could be relied upon. 

Rita was many things, but above all, she was _resourceful._

It was how she found herself among the throngs of passengers at London’s Heathrow airport one dreary spring afternoon, following a lead from an unlikely source while carefully disguised as an ordinary Muggle woman. Much to her disdain, ever since her blackmail she’d fewer resources to her name; her hair was less tightly curled, her nails less sharply filed, and the lines in her face had deepened, emphasising the effects of ageing. Even though several of the threads of her deep plum-coloured cardigan were fraying, she knew she was better dressed than most other witches or wizards who had ever attempted to go incognito.

Nevertheless, the money her mother had given her was a comforting weight in the hidden pocket underneath her clothes and despite all the present shortcomings (including a twenty-hour flight, on an _aeroplane,_ of all things), it felt good to be on the beat again.

*

The Australian heat was nothing short of oppressive: Rita was sweating before she’d even located her target, an Armenian-Australian warlock who she physically recoiled from the moment she clapped eyes on him. Fortunately, she’d been in her Animagus form at the time.

What an unfortunate looking man, all gnarled features arranged in the most off-putting arrangement on his face. He was dressed in what amounted to barely more than little raggedy rags, draped over and off his bony limbs. At least the local Muggles would be unable to recognise he was a wizard: his garments were hardly identifiable at all.

After trailing the elderly man for a day, she determined her best course of approach. The first she met him in her human form, she was dressed as a Muggle again in order to buy him a drink at the local pub. She sprinkled in references to magical affairs, enough for him to comprehend that she was a witch, too. Her wand was tucked up her sleeve but she wouldn’t risk using it here, not unless her hand was pushed. Too many witnesses, too messy. In an investigation like this she needed to be discreet. Witches and wizards tended to be too blunt, direct. Never cared to contain the messes they made so long as they had to clean up after themselves.

Rita Skeeter wouldn’t act like that, especially in a foreign country where her reputation didn’t evoke the same respect and revile that it did back home.

Instead, she invited the old, ugly man back to her motel room for a tipple – the finest Scottish Firewhisky, she lied.

*

In her small cramped motel room, Rita could finally work her magic (quite literally, indeed). She made a show of misplacing her liquor, offering him a nice warm cup of tea instead. In Rita’s opinion, the man was drunk enough already; the alcohol rolled off his breath in waves. She arranged her material on the dingy table just the way she liked it, parchment and quill at the ready. Wetting the tip of the quill’s acid green feather between her teeth, she braced herself as she remembered what she hoped to achieve by flying out to this disgusting backwater town.

She drew her wand.

Rita could readily recognise a well-placed Memory Charm when she saw one, having somewhat of an affinity for the charm herself. This would be it: the final nail in Lockhart’s coffin. She had to admire the man’s nerve. It was almost a pity that she’d been tasked to put a stop to it, but only almost. If she had to choose between her own neck and that of another person’s, she’d choose her own skin every time.

Undoing the charm was like threading a needle that was slightly the wrong size: it was easy to give up after too many failed attempts. Rita would not. Rita would persevere. She knew there were other, more direct attempts, to get the information she desired, but she hardly wished to end up imprisoned in a strange land for casting an Unforgiveable Curse. Not when she was following up a lead given to her by a manipulative teenager. If anything, Rita was the one who was acting under duress.

In Rita’s opinion it was just a happy coincidence, that the brats had turned out to be _correct._ First, Rita had gone to Bandon (positively local, comparatively speaking) and sought out a witch with a hairy chin. Unfortunately, the woman had since passed and Rita could only conduct interviews with others who had encountered the famous banshee. The answers she’d received were suspicious and yet not enough.

For an article like this, to take down another celebrity, and most frustratingly, to adhere to the terms of her arrangement with Miss Granger, she needed direct proof. A primary source.

Every time she cast her counter charm, she asked her question again. “What can you tell me about the Wagga Wagga werewolf?”

Tears pricked the corners of the wizened old man’s eyes but he shook his head, tight-lipped, unyielding.

Rita cursed under her breath, tried again. “Anything now?”

“I…” There was a sharp intake of breath. A yelp. The tears spilt. “He _tricked_ me!

Finally, she had threaded her needle.

*

The article was published on the front page of _The Daily Prophet_ five days later, two photographs of the hopefully now infamous man plastered above the headline. The first one was older, depicting a proud, preening Lockhart shortly after he had been awarded his eighth Witch Weekly Most Charming Smile award. In the other, he was surrounded by journalists, photographers. Instead of grinning for the camera he turned away, batting at the hand of a bold wizard who grabbed at the embellished sleeve of his robe. 

_GILDEROY LOCKHART’S MOST DECEPTIVE SMILE_

_Suspicions of fraud have shattered Britain’s magical community today. Gilderoy Lockhart, best-selling author and Dark creature expert has been accused of fabricating much of his illustrious career, spanning over the course of the last decade. Sources reveal that Lockhart had interrogated other, more talented wizards and witches about their accomplishments before performing an illegal memory wipe on them, with a finesse that would put most professional Obliviators to shame._

_Many of his victims are still too afraid to speak out, knowing that Lockhart’s fame and fortune may lead to them being discredited. One man, however, does not want to see Lockhart go unpunished for his crimes. Davit Sarafian, age 102, from Wagga Wagga, Australia, recalls the day where he crossed paths with Lockhart, the dedicated fraudster._

_“I remember it well,” he said, eyes glistening. “There had been a colony of werewolves on the outskirts of town for decades, but they didn’t mean anybody no harm. We all knew to stay away from ‘em, and anyone who didn’t… well. They would join their pack. A young fella had been the most recent new one, and he wasn’t taking to his new life well, kept straying too close to the town. Before we knew it, werewolf attacks were becoming a monthly occurrence, and well. Something had to be done about it. The Homorphous Charm is an incredibly difficult spell that can be temporarily used to return a werewolf to their human form. Get ‘em out of trouble, you see. But of course, that [redacted] tried to make it sound like a cure for lycanthropy… if such a thing exists, I’d eat my hat.” Mr Sarafian claims that he had forgotten entirely about the encounter until a recent Good Samaritan was able to reverse the effects of the Memory Charm placed upon him._

_From this one example alone, it is clearly that Lockhart’s long list of achievements require more scrutiny, as does his teaching stint at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry during the 1992-1993 school year._

_“He was always a bit useless,” confesses Ron Weasley, perhaps best known for his close association with Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived. “He made us clean up his classroom once, when he was teaching us how to tame pixies. No idea what he was doing at all. The girls were always mad for him, though.”_

_It just goes to show that even the most handsome of men can have dark motives lurking in their depths of their hearts. What other secrets hide beneath the bared teeth of that award-winning smile? Hopefully, we will not have to wait too long to find out._

_\- Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet Correspondent_

(Smaller text below reads: )

_Gilderoy Lockhart has been taken in for questioning by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and is currently unavailable for comment._

_*_

Two days later, Rita receives a letter from one Hermione Granger. _I hope you’ve learnt an important lesson about telling the truth,_ it says.

The message makes Rita laugh. Stupid girl.

Rita would never make the same mistakes Lockhart had.


End file.
